Saturday, September 12, 2009
the health bill and our food industry
My husband Matt and I said jokingly the other day that the real solution to our health care problems would be to put a sin tax on Doritos. But apparently Michael Pollan thought of the same thing--and he was serious. He wrote a great piece in which he argues that forbidding insurance companies to drop people from care could be a powerful incentive to change our food subsidies. Because it would mean that for the first time since the corn revolution, there would be a powerful, monied group that had an interest in keeping people healthy. And the simplest way to do that is to improve our diet by dropping corn subsidies and decentralizing our food industry so we eat more local food. And if that were the only accomplishment of this bill, it might be worth it just for that.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
health care, taxes, and christian love
I've never written about health care reform here before, partly because it's not an issue I've ever been too concerned about, and partly because I never thought of it as an issue of Christian environmentalism. But as I've watched this debate gain heat over the last few weeks, culminating last night in the president's speech, I'm beginning to change my mind. Health care may not be an environmental issue, although it certainly overlaps. But it is a Christian issue.
My biggest concern after hearing the speech--and, I suspect, many people's biggest concern--is the question of how Obama plans to pay for the changes enacted in this bill. He claims it can be done mostly through savings and without adding any new taxes, other than allowing some tax cuts to run out. I'm neither an economist nor a legislator, but it seems counter-intuitive to me: something this expensive costs money, and governments get money from taxes. That's just the way they work. Government is a non-profit.
And the objection that I've heard over and over again to this plan is the financial aspect. "Why should MY money go to pay YOUR health care?" is the complaint I've heard over and over. And that is where the Christian aspect of this issue comes to the forefront, so that is the question I want to address. Why SHOULD your money pay for someone else's health care?
Do I really need to answer that question?
Hasn't the Bible answered it for me? In passages like Psalm 82:3: "Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless." And Proverbs 14:21: "Blessed is he who is kind to the needy." Proverbs 22:16: "He who oppresses the poor to increase his wealth and he who gives gifts to the rich--both come to poverty." Isaiah 1:17: "Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow." Matthew 19:21: "Jesus answered, If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." I John 3:17: "If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?"
How indeed.
Oh, you say, but I want to give money to the poor. I DO give money to the poor. I just want to choose where to give it. I give to my church and to charitable organizations that help provide health care to the poor.
Great. You get a tax deduction on that giving. You don't have to pay twice for other people's health care.
Which brings me to taxes. Americans hate taxes. America was practically founded on a hatred of taxes. I can understand this--I don't like taxes either. I've always believed that government should be as local as possible. But the reality is that private charity isn't covering the need. It isn't solving the problem. It isn't working. And if something isn't working--if there are children dying of preventable diseases--then something needs to change.
And I think the real problem with the argument that so many people make is right there in the question about "my money" going to pay for "your health care."
Because, if you claim to be a Christian, then you ought to believe it's not really your money. In fact, if you look at what Jesus said about taxes, you could argue that it's not even God's money. Jesus said it was Caesar's money. And our bills have pictures of presidents on them too.
By the way, I have health care. Really good health care from a private insurer, supplied at very low cost to us by my husband's job. My coverage is so good that when I go to the doctor, the receptionist always comments on how good my plan is. "Wow," she'll say, "your copay is really low! And you have no deductible! You have a great plan."
And--I'm almost ashamed to admit this, because it's so unfair--but the truth is we don't even need such great care. I've gone to lots of doctors who don't accept any health care and who aren't covered by my plan, but we could afford that. We were able to pay for that. We are nothing like the thousands of people in this country who can't afford to pay for any care at all, let alone paying to choose specialty care.
And so my response to the president's speech is heartfelt. Yes, pass your plan. Offer universal health care. And if you can't cover the cost with spending cuts, then please, raise my taxes to help pay for it. Use "my" money to pay for someone else's health care. I'll consider it money well spent.
My biggest concern after hearing the speech--and, I suspect, many people's biggest concern--is the question of how Obama plans to pay for the changes enacted in this bill. He claims it can be done mostly through savings and without adding any new taxes, other than allowing some tax cuts to run out. I'm neither an economist nor a legislator, but it seems counter-intuitive to me: something this expensive costs money, and governments get money from taxes. That's just the way they work. Government is a non-profit.
And the objection that I've heard over and over again to this plan is the financial aspect. "Why should MY money go to pay YOUR health care?" is the complaint I've heard over and over. And that is where the Christian aspect of this issue comes to the forefront, so that is the question I want to address. Why SHOULD your money pay for someone else's health care?
Do I really need to answer that question?
Hasn't the Bible answered it for me? In passages like Psalm 82:3: "Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless." And Proverbs 14:21: "Blessed is he who is kind to the needy." Proverbs 22:16: "He who oppresses the poor to increase his wealth and he who gives gifts to the rich--both come to poverty." Isaiah 1:17: "Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow." Matthew 19:21: "Jesus answered, If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." I John 3:17: "If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?"
How indeed.
Oh, you say, but I want to give money to the poor. I DO give money to the poor. I just want to choose where to give it. I give to my church and to charitable organizations that help provide health care to the poor.
Great. You get a tax deduction on that giving. You don't have to pay twice for other people's health care.
Which brings me to taxes. Americans hate taxes. America was practically founded on a hatred of taxes. I can understand this--I don't like taxes either. I've always believed that government should be as local as possible. But the reality is that private charity isn't covering the need. It isn't solving the problem. It isn't working. And if something isn't working--if there are children dying of preventable diseases--then something needs to change.
And I think the real problem with the argument that so many people make is right there in the question about "my money" going to pay for "your health care."
Because, if you claim to be a Christian, then you ought to believe it's not really your money. In fact, if you look at what Jesus said about taxes, you could argue that it's not even God's money. Jesus said it was Caesar's money. And our bills have pictures of presidents on them too.
By the way, I have health care. Really good health care from a private insurer, supplied at very low cost to us by my husband's job. My coverage is so good that when I go to the doctor, the receptionist always comments on how good my plan is. "Wow," she'll say, "your copay is really low! And you have no deductible! You have a great plan."
And--I'm almost ashamed to admit this, because it's so unfair--but the truth is we don't even need such great care. I've gone to lots of doctors who don't accept any health care and who aren't covered by my plan, but we could afford that. We were able to pay for that. We are nothing like the thousands of people in this country who can't afford to pay for any care at all, let alone paying to choose specialty care.
And so my response to the president's speech is heartfelt. Yes, pass your plan. Offer universal health care. And if you can't cover the cost with spending cuts, then please, raise my taxes to help pay for it. Use "my" money to pay for someone else's health care. I'll consider it money well spent.
Friday, August 28, 2009
agriburbia
Here's a brilliant idea. I've developed an irrational feeling that can best be described as fear of suburbs (suburphobia?) over the past few years. I don't know if it's somehow related to my growing up in the suburbs and my tremendous unpopularity in high school or if it's an inevitable result of living in the city for too long (hence the common Atlanta fear of "OTP" among those of us who live "ITP"). Whatever the reason, I'm actually less afraid of break-ins and broken glass than I am of strip malls and billboards. But this article offers a vision of a suburbia I'd be happy to live in.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
happy fourth of july
I've never known quite how to feel about the Fourth. I've always had a hard time understanding patriotism in the context of a country as big as the United States. What does it mean to be patriotic to a country that's a conglomerate of hundreds of languages, ethnicities, and cultures? Patriotism means being loyal to a particular thing, and you can't be loyal to something you don't understand. What does it mean, in essence, to be American?
The cliche answer, of course, is freedom. But the longer I live, the more pessimistic I become about our American idea of freedom. It seems to me to be more rhetoric than reality. Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful for the Constitution and the freedoms we're guaranteed. I understand the difference between, say, freedom of speech--the freedom to write what I'm writing right now, for instance, and not be worried that I'll be arrested for it because it's viewed as a criticism of the government--and the lack of it. I've glimpsed the fear that comes from not knowing what accidental word might get you in trouble, or what neighbor might be spying on you to see if you let slip something that could be subversive. But a guarantee of basic human rights, which is pretty much what our freedoms amount to, does not a country make. Freedom alone does not inspire true patriotism.
It was G.K. Chesterton who made me realize this, because I don't think I ever heard real patriotism expressed by anyone in my own community. I don't think Americans understand what it means to be loyal to something without a reason. For the most part, I think we Americans are loyal for a reason. We are loyal because we like our freedoms and our independence; we like the ideals that our country was founded on. But countries with longer histories can be loyal without reason. Chesterton writes of love without reason, of being patriotic to England simply because she is England. Better yet, he writes of loyalty to a specific place, a place you can really understand because it's small enough to comprehend. He said that the man who lives in one neighborhood his whole life actually understand the stranger on the other side of the world better than the cosmopolitan who has traveled everywhere, because he is concerned with universal concerns that all men share. He is focused on his own home and family; he worries about the rain and the crops and the baby, just as the simple man on the other side of the planet does. He lives in a smaller town, but a larger world. We Americans are all cosmopolitans, and our own world is too big for us to believe in the largeness of the universe.
I feel like I'm dancing around what I'm trying to say here, but what I really mean is this. True patriotism, deep loyalty to place, can only be felt and expressed toward a place that's small enough to understand. America is too big for me to love. I can love Atlanta--though I don't, much, but I'm working on it--or Harrisonburg or maybe even Virginia. I can love a city, maybe a state: a place small enough to have its own character and its own culture. I can admire America, but she's too big for me to really love.
So while I can celebrate the fact that we're no longer a colony of Britain, I find it hard to celebrate America as such. The victories of smaller places will always be sweeter to me.
The cliche answer, of course, is freedom. But the longer I live, the more pessimistic I become about our American idea of freedom. It seems to me to be more rhetoric than reality. Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful for the Constitution and the freedoms we're guaranteed. I understand the difference between, say, freedom of speech--the freedom to write what I'm writing right now, for instance, and not be worried that I'll be arrested for it because it's viewed as a criticism of the government--and the lack of it. I've glimpsed the fear that comes from not knowing what accidental word might get you in trouble, or what neighbor might be spying on you to see if you let slip something that could be subversive. But a guarantee of basic human rights, which is pretty much what our freedoms amount to, does not a country make. Freedom alone does not inspire true patriotism.
It was G.K. Chesterton who made me realize this, because I don't think I ever heard real patriotism expressed by anyone in my own community. I don't think Americans understand what it means to be loyal to something without a reason. For the most part, I think we Americans are loyal for a reason. We are loyal because we like our freedoms and our independence; we like the ideals that our country was founded on. But countries with longer histories can be loyal without reason. Chesterton writes of love without reason, of being patriotic to England simply because she is England. Better yet, he writes of loyalty to a specific place, a place you can really understand because it's small enough to comprehend. He said that the man who lives in one neighborhood his whole life actually understand the stranger on the other side of the world better than the cosmopolitan who has traveled everywhere, because he is concerned with universal concerns that all men share. He is focused on his own home and family; he worries about the rain and the crops and the baby, just as the simple man on the other side of the planet does. He lives in a smaller town, but a larger world. We Americans are all cosmopolitans, and our own world is too big for us to believe in the largeness of the universe.
I feel like I'm dancing around what I'm trying to say here, but what I really mean is this. True patriotism, deep loyalty to place, can only be felt and expressed toward a place that's small enough to understand. America is too big for me to love. I can love Atlanta--though I don't, much, but I'm working on it--or Harrisonburg or maybe even Virginia. I can love a city, maybe a state: a place small enough to have its own character and its own culture. I can admire America, but she's too big for me to really love.
So while I can celebrate the fact that we're no longer a colony of Britain, I find it hard to celebrate America as such. The victories of smaller places will always be sweeter to me.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Top Ten Ways to be an Extreme Green: #2: An Amendum for Women Only
I really should have included this idea in the post along with cloth diapers and labeled it something like "stop using disposable products." But I decided that this one really deserves its own post. So men, well, you might want to stop reading now.
Ladies, this is one we all have to deal with. I tried this a few years ago and didn't have much luck with it--I think I got the wrong size, and it kept leaking. But when my period came back recently (fifteen months after my baby was born), well, I guess it was the cloth diapers that got me thinking. I've come to feel that disposable diapers are just gross--smelly, strange, funny looking. And suddenly I felt the same way about disposable pads.
Much to my delight, I discovered there's a store in Atlanta where you can actually buy reusable menstrual products, here. So I went there and got the bigger size Diva cup, and a couple of cloth pads for good measure. And wow. This is so much fun. I have never said this in my life, but I'm actually looking forward to my next period. The cup isn't gross at all--it's fun and easy and it only takes a few seconds to deal with. And--completely unlike a tampon--it only has to be changed a couple of times a day. It's like not even having your period. Why did I take so long to switch to this?
Guys, I know you're grossed out right now. But I told you not to read this one.
Ladies, this is one we all have to deal with. I tried this a few years ago and didn't have much luck with it--I think I got the wrong size, and it kept leaking. But when my period came back recently (fifteen months after my baby was born), well, I guess it was the cloth diapers that got me thinking. I've come to feel that disposable diapers are just gross--smelly, strange, funny looking. And suddenly I felt the same way about disposable pads.
Much to my delight, I discovered there's a store in Atlanta where you can actually buy reusable menstrual products, here. So I went there and got the bigger size Diva cup, and a couple of cloth pads for good measure. And wow. This is so much fun. I have never said this in my life, but I'm actually looking forward to my next period. The cup isn't gross at all--it's fun and easy and it only takes a few seconds to deal with. And--completely unlike a tampon--it only has to be changed a couple of times a day. It's like not even having your period. Why did I take so long to switch to this?
Guys, I know you're grossed out right now. But I told you not to read this one.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
earth day in Atlanta
Tomorrow is Earth Day, and although most of the Atlanta stuff happened last weekend, there are still a few things you can do to celebrate tomorrow. The Botanical Gardens has half-price admission and events all day to celebrate, and of course Atlantic Station has an upscale evening event that sounds exciting and modern (and pricey). I won't be going to any of those, but I might try to make it to Zoo Atlanta's events this weekend.
Or I might just stay home and watch The Eleventh Hour and try to recover from the cold that's been dogging me all week.
Or I might just stay home and watch The Eleventh Hour and try to recover from the cold that's been dogging me all week.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
another video: a composting robot
I guess it's youtube weekend here at The Christian Environmentalist. I got this link from a friend and couldn't resist posting it. How cool is this? I know, I know, I'm a gadget girl...and this is really not that green...but I can't help but want one.
Luckily, my husband is more sensible and told me that we can compost perfectly well with a pail of worms.
Luckily, my husband is more sensible and told me that we can compost perfectly well with a pail of worms.
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